Distract me
by sillysac
Summary: Isabelle needs Simon to distract her, so he obliges. Short one-shot set in City of Glass.


_AN: I'm having a hard time writing anything right now. I've managed to play Beatles Rock Band to my heart's content and updated my Ipod. Here's a very short story with Isabelle and Simon, because I felt that I needed to write about someone other than Clary and Jace to get my creative juices flowing again._

_Oh! and before I forget.... Disclaimer: I do not own anything of The Mortal Instruments, Cassandra Clare does :)  
_

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"_You know what I really need right now? She said, enunciating each word clearly. _

"_Um," Simon said. "No?"_

"_To be distracted," she said, and with a half turn yanked him bodily onto the bed beside her._

_He landed on his back amid a tangled pile of clothes. "Isabelle," Simon protested weakly, "do you really think this is going to make you feel any better?"_

"_Trust me," Isabelle said, placing a hand on his chest, just over his unbeating heart. "I feel better already."_

_City of Glass, page 327._

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She knelt down to kneel beside Simon, her mouth breaking into a weak smile. Despite her brave face, he could see that she was still hurting. Isabelle kissed him swiftly, her warm mouth melding into his cold one.

Isabelle was completely different from Clary. From the way she talked, and smiled, and kissed him. Where Clary was always slightly shy, Isabelle was confident with every movement she made. He supposed that he really shouldn't be thinking of Clary, while on Isabelle's bed, being kissed by the dark haired girl; but his heart still held onto Clary, despite everything that he knew.

Clary would never love him, and maybe Isabelle wouldn't either, but she was with him at the moment, kissing him, being with him. He had to push her out of his mind.

Simon broke away from the kiss, opening his eyes to see Isabelle. Her eyes no longer shone with fresh tears, they were a clear, brilliant blue. When she smiled again, Simon could see her confidence back in place. He sat up, placed his hands on Isabelle's hips, and forced her to lie beneath him as he took her mouth in his again.

Careful to keep his incisors concealed, he opened his mouth to hers, savouring the taste of her tongue on his. She had a mixture of strawberries and mango in her mouth, and even without his human hunger, he wanted to taste more. Their tongues continued to explore each other, but Simon brought his into her mouth, moaning when the flavour was even stronger.

He fisted a hand in her hair for a moment, and then moved both his hands down her face, and along her arms, feeling the scars that adorned her skin. Simon moved his mouth from hers; peppering light kisses along her temple and cheeks. Isabelle responded by hooking one of her legs up and around his back.

With such heightened hearing, Simon could hear the soft shifting of her slip drop before he saw it. Isabelle wasn't wearing any underwear. He didn't need perfect vision to see that. But his fingers moved of their own accord, sliding up with her slip, feeling the soft skin of her thigh.

He drew back from her, suddenly terrified of what he was doing. Even if she initiated the kiss, he wouldn't take advantage of her present state. She deserved more.

But Isabelle hadn't noticed her slip move, and followed his gaze down to her lap. He hadn't moved his hand off her thigh yet.

She laughed quietly, placing his hand over his. "The virgin vampire, I forgot."

Simon would have been completely red, had he still been one of the living. "Izzy... I don't... we shouldn't..." he failed to say a complete sentence. He looked into her eyes, worried that she would lash out at him. She was a Shadowhunter, after all. Her whip was close enough that if she wanted to, she could tear off his arm.

Isabelle didn't seem angry though. Just thoughtful. "It's okay," she reassured him with her other hand on his cheek. "You can just kiss me. Maybe we can talk after."

Simon nodded. Isabelle leaned up to kiss him again, more tender the third time. It felt more like a lovers kiss, so much more intimate than a heavy make out. He let his body tangle back up in hers; savouring the time they had together, knowing that it wouldn't ever really work.

Some part of his mind would always be conscious of the fact that he was stuck at sixteen, never aging. Isabelle was free of the troubles of immortality. She would eventually grow older. But he could still express his feelings for her while they were together that night, because it was all that mattered in that moment.


End file.
